THE
A'RAK
by Michael
Shea
Pompilla's Taunt
Let
the
A'rak's
web
be
woven
that
ghostweb
he
was
wont
to
weave
of
souls
torn
from
bodies
cloven
by
his
fangs
that
all
things
cleave!
Let
him
stab
and
slay
and
tear
them,
souls
alive
from
bodies
slain,
let
him
weave
those
ghosts
and
wear
them--
For
one
doth
come
to
work
him
pain
Heap
the
smoking
meat
thous't
plundered!
Weave,
oh
A'rak!
Weave
it
strong.
For
such
web
can
scarce
be
sundered,
and
thou'lt
need
its
shield
ere
long!
When
thour't
clothed
in
Slaughter's
garment
wilt
thou
not
be
bravely
clad?
Staunch
the
fabric
spun
from
torment!
And
bright
the
dies
by
victims
bled!
But
'ware
that
thou
be
not
the
garment
of
one
whose
style
outbraves
thine
own!
One
who
does
not
dread
interrment
Where
thy
murdered
prey
have
gone!
For
howso
thick
thou
be
appareled
in
thy
web
of
woven
woe
Thou
mays't
find
thyself
ensnarled
At
the
onslaught
of
thy
foe.
When
the
wing-song
of
her
hunger
serenades
thee
from
the
sky,
and
the
bright
barb
of
her
anger
seeks
thy
life
(thou
knowest
why!)
Then,
Oh
A'rak,
thou
mights't
cower
when
thy
shield
becomes
thy
chain
and
Pam-Pel
in
all
her
power
shall
thee
slay--at
last!--again!
